Oh and the Shard is back in my viewfinder again but this time I'm stood on London Bridge and have captured the rarer sight of our building alongside it too. The sun it making it appear that the Shard has briefly turned into a giant firework.
I think from this angle you can clearly see we're cut from the same cloth as our giant neighbour. We've got the gentle curves whereas he is all sharp pointing so, but we're definitely the same family.
Russian Ukrainian V, multi-brothered J and ZZ have opted for a leaving do in the Oyster Shed, across the river from their former home from home. In fact I did wonder if the location was chosen so they could look back (fondly or otherwise) at where they'd just left.
I realised I'd been here once before back in April 2013. I'm not positive I would have recognised our building as the one we were due to move into one and a half years later. Back then I captured the soft pinks of a sunset but tonight the rain rendered the sunset very unremarkable, but at least the blue hour made the view a little more interesting.
For reasons not entirely understood, ZZ didn't turn up for his leaving do, does that mean he hadn't left?
Our lovely teammate, Russian Ukrainian V, left us today to move onto bigger and brighter things. But because he is such a thoughtful person, he snuck back into the office and left the 'chicks' a bouquet of roses and irises each. We'd sourced a Ferragamo tie with teeny, tiny chicks on it for his leaving present. Sadly they didn't have a tie resplendent with miniscule pumpkins, and we looked!
Thank you, Pumpkin, we'll miss you!
Wow it's déjà vu, I'm here again on a Friday night. The office (or at least my floor) is completely devoid of other people. I am staring at my screen but out of the corner of my eye, I espy the shiny buildings outside, as they seem to be glowing orange. Hmmm I think I need a window, and I also some height!
I grab my camera and head upstairs. I try the door to the balcony on the 14th floor and I'm in luck, depending who's on security, that little avenue of pleasure could be closed. I manoeuvre myself into my favourite spot, in between the two glass walls that surround the balcony. I'm assuming the double wall is a safety feature but it's also a photography impediment so it has to be breached. Sometimes a passing security guard will want to rail against this apparent insubordination but generally they just stand there and scowl. I must point out that the glass walls are about my eye level so I'm not sure how I could possibly get over it, if ever the mood struck. Maybe the second wall makes it impossible to insert something to climb up on top of and heave yourself over, but I'm sure if there really was a will, they'd be a way. Maybe that's why there are no chairs on the balcony either. There are some chunky wooden seats set into the floor at the far end by the raised flower beds, but not in front of "the view".
Tonight the giant golden ball in the sky attracts some other would-be photographers clutching their iPhones and where they see my prime spot, they also join me in the no man's land.
It is a stunner tonight; the sun is so enormous and emerges briefly from between two banks of deep purple clouds on the horizon. It's so bright and improbably every shade of yellow, orange and red you've ever seen...and then it's gone!
Thinking of previous poppy pictures for the colour splash challenge on Sunday I was struck that I haven’t seen a poppy even from a distance this year. Not one, not even an elusive out of my reach one by the side of the train tracks or tucked away in someone’s garden. And then I had been photographing the view from the windswept balcony on the fourteenth floor. Fortunately I was prepared for it this time by deploying a handy hair tie I had around my wrist so that every shot I took didn’t have my own hair whipping in front of the lens as on previous visits.
I was just going to return inside out of the testy wind but I thought I’d check out the raised beds for anything interesting and there it was, one lone rather dilapidated tiny clump of poppies being buffeted by the gusts. The first poppy of the year! Okay not the finest of specimens but it might be the only poppy I get in front of my lens this year. So I descend upon this vibrant streak of scarlet amongst the lavender, and shoot it from every angle. Okay first poppy…any chance of a second?
Another late night in the office and another sunset from the top floor. If I want the River Thames in shot I need to get up higher. It's one of those sunsets that could possibly have been applied with a couple of crayons.
I’ve missed the sunset again but it was worth visiting the balcony again about an hour after the sun has set. I am guessing I’m still in the blue hour, well the blue 26 minutes, if my golden/blue hour app is anything to go by. Perhaps I should call this the purple or indigo hour instead. Whatever hue of blue, I like the illuminated Southwark Cathedral and the reflections in the Thames against the backdrop of a bruising sky.
We hosted a little SLA soiree tonight on our balcony, finally we have a building we can be proud to invite customers too, and a great entertainment space, if the weather holds. I'd promised a good sunset, and I think we did okay. The security were eyeing us trying to perch on the stone beds as we have a definite dearth of seating on the balcony. I do wonder if this is a ploy to discourage us to linger. About the time they were started to round us up, the rain started. Clearly organised to dampen our spirits and get people thinking about one more for the road. At least I got my photographs, and probably managed a little better than those smartphone shots. I could break out the smaller apertures and then bring it up in post.
I wondered around with for a couple of days hoping for inspirationm and eventually opted to place it carefully in our buildings' pop-up bar.
Initially I propped it up against some beer bottles (not mine, still can't get my head around beer!). But then wondered if it looked too like a beer mat and would just be bussed with the empties. So finally left it on top of another clean table, hope someone found it before it was thrown away. I was feeling very summery creating this one, hopefully the weather will mirror that!
It's been irrational how much I've missed the escalators leading from the Jubilee line tube to our building. They closed them months ago, erected this huge wooden structure around them, and made us go all round the houses to get up to the level of our building. Finally, after me scowling at the closed sign nearly every day, they've painstakingly installed a roof over the escalators and let us back in. The roof is in the style of the etched glass panels on the Shard and The News Building, so the first view of the Shard as you ascend is now partially obscured. But the escalators are back, and I'm almost deliriously delighted about that!
It's one of those evenings when I spot the buildings around me turning golden and have to grab my camera. The only spot I can photograph sunsets on our floor now gives me a narrow window overlooking Southwark Cathedral and St Paul's. And as picturesque the spot is, I want a wider vistas, so that means a lift up to the higher floors. An advantage of getting higher is that I can capture the dying sun reflected off the Thames. So not a bad thing!
Another late night in the office. I've missed the sunset but it's the blue hour and I'm rather taken by how Southwark Cathedral is lit up at night.
The sunsets never get old. Since we moved into this building mid November I've been drawn to the windows when the pinks, oranges and purple streaks begin to appear. Back then I would have to have my camera ready 3.30/4pm, and these days it's closer to 9pm. When I started this project the sun would set directly behind me and I worked out the perfect spot to stand, so I can minimise the reflection from the overhead lights. These evenings the sun sets at 90 degrees to where it set back then so I have to walk to the far end of our building to seek out the view, I have less places to stand on our floor when the sun's at this position, some of the windows have a double layer of baffling which are way to dusty to shoot through. But with sun at this position I can get an excellent view from the balcony if the doors are open. The balcony is glazed at all sides but the two ends have a lower glass barrier so if I get up close I can poke my camera lens the gap between the panels. However, depending what events are happening, you can't always get access to the outdoor space or the picture windows on the 17th floor.
Tonight I remain on the 7th floor and squeeze a photograph from between the curiously angled sticky out bits of the building. At this tight position I have no choice but to have Southwark Cathedral in the foreground and St. Paul's behind. But, it's not a bad view, is it?
Our new building has some intriguing design features, especially in the shared areas. The front panel of the reception desk is skinned with old metal printing plates of long-past front pages. I am assuming they are reproductions as they seem very clean if not!
Our tech desk (think laptop, iPhone, Android doctors) have their walk-up desk covered in old keyboards. And nearby there’s a small sitting are which has large squishy rectangles covered in a straw fabric to look like hay bales as random seating. The library has lamps constructed from old typewriters, large wing armchairs and other quirky lighting.
My favourite is the book shop though; we have a book shop with the wall made out of real books. There aren’t just books stacked up against a wall as you can walk around the book dividing wall and examine the spines. The overhead lights here are fashioned to resemble books too. The funky lights aren’t too bright though, so the less prosaic ceiling lights are needed too.
If we have any visitors I have to show them our book shop made of books as no one really believes it until they’ve seen it. Everyone goes to examine whether they are real books (they are) and if they can remove one from the stack (you cannot). I am not sure how the book wall is constructed; it seems very sturdy so I suspect the books are no longer readable because they’ve been glued, drilled, pinned or whatever. Very wise though, some have the tendency is to see if the entire construction is a little like Jenga and you could push a book through to the other side. Imagine what sort of dramatic page-turner that would make if you could!
Despite having so many, I was drawn to the far end of the building to capture the sunset. I popped up to the fourteenth floor to nip out on the balcony to shoot the sky unimpeded by glass. But yet again, none of the doors were unlocked.
So thwarted, I tried to find a patch of glass that didn't reflect on the ceiling lights, neon signs or televisions back at me. And amazingly I found a spot. So for the first time seemingly for ever I didn't have to clone out alien laser beams ftom the sky or the until recently, the ever present fuzzy blobs when shooting with a little aperture. The best sunset indeed!
I haven't heard back from Leica regarding my errant dust magnet of a D-Lux so I think I better gather some more evidence and reach out. I have a photo I took on the way to Bruton Place last time, showing the second set of dust blobs, plus the one I took the moment the camera returned from its sojourn from its extended stay at the Leica spa. I had been surprised and gutted to see a third set of four distinct new blurry blobs courtesy of the sensor. It's hard to fathom how it can go from being pristine to full of dust again whilst all wrapped up en route via courier from the workshop. The conclusion drawn by the engineer is that something internally was flaking off and causing these distracting blobs visible when usng smaller apertures.
I wanted to make sure there was no glass possibly adding its own dirty blobs to any images so I thought I'd grab some lunch on the fourteenth floor and nip out onto the balcony for a spot of photography. However all the doors leading to the balcony seem to be locked for some reason.
So I dash downstairs and out onto the plaza for my test images. I look straight up into the sky to capture both the Shard and our building looking very much like they'd fit together, should it be needed. The sun is really shining and it's tricky to see through the viewfinder. I can see the tiny aperture is causing the sun to burst from behind the Shard and curiously everything seems bluer. But it's not until l get back in the lift I realise the white balance is utterly off-whack and the kelvin setting is strangely high.
I decided that the increased blue cool temperature would add an appropriate hue to my sad dust-filled image, as the problem is causing me a degree of desolation. I have cloned out the blobs, hopefully for the very last time, and await Leica's final conclusion. Fingers crossed!
The lure of some tasty food with friends has gotten me out of the office at a reasonable time and as a bonus, the sun hasn't set yet. And trust me, that's a rare sight for me. As I cross the road I observe the Green Cross Code, look left, and see the ever-present pointy building peeking out from between our building and the above the hostelries on the other side of London Bridge Street. And the cornflower blue sky with the sun hitting the terracotta bricks at the roof top just compelled me to stop and take a shot. I had to a stand in the middle of the road to get my composition, but luckily I had enough time before a black cab started heading towards me.
It’s been a dramatic day at work today, restructure, redundancies etcetera, and as if in some accord, the dramatic sunset reflects the mood on the inside outside.
It was one of those nights when I take what I think are some nice sunset shots, but am frustrated by the angle and the recalcitrant blinds so zip up ten floors to get a more uninterrupted view of the Thames, the bridges and St. Paul’s. I think I am finished but then less than fifty minutes later the whole atmosphere shifts entirely and I have to rush back up to the top floor to capture the much more appropriate photo of the day.
Our solar powered heat sensitive blinds are having some sort of crisis. Whilst this is being resolved they have been left in the down position. I guess the gloominess is somewhat preferable to bring blinded by the sun but it does deprive us of any potential sunsets too. Luckily if I go down to the other end of the office, they is a blind-less pane. I'm not sure if this is by design or whether it's also being measured up for a replacement. But just in case this avenue of pleasure is in danger of being closed, I'll nip down there and take the opportunity to record this evening's dramatic sunset with Southwark Cathedral silhouetted in the foreground.
I’ve managed to resist for a while but sat at my desk this early evening, out of the corner of my eye I’m beginning to see something spectacular. I’m safely away from the distractions of a window view but being surrounded by so much glass and shiny surfaces somehow the pinks, oranges and purples make their presence known. I grab my camera and go to the other side of the building where I am going to be able to view the sun departing. But actually I can’t view it. The automatic blinds have descended obscuring everything and I’m met with a wall of grey.
However, all is not lost as I know a spot that doesn’t have a blind. I’m not sure whether this is by design as it’s one of the awkward sticky out bits of the building, or it’s just a broken blind. But whatever, I have somewhere I can stand unencumbered by the blinds and take my stunning sunset photo. And as a bonus Southwark Cathedral is silhouetted against the deep purple and vibrant orange which in turn is reflected in the silver snakes of the trains going hither and thither beneath me.
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